Chapter 6

Here he gave a sigh, and drew his hand across his forehead as if in pain. His large pop eyes blinked sadly for a few moments, and his mouth dropped down at the corners. Then his mahogany-colored face became fixed and his gaze was upon the craft he had just deserted. What was in the old fellow's mind? I really felt sorry for him, as he sat there gazing sadly after his deserted home. Captain Sackett would stay aboard until the last, his wife informed us, but as there was no necessity of any one staying now, if their boats could live in the sea that was still running, it was probable that they would all be aboard us before night. Jenks, the old sailor, gave it as his opinion that they would have the boats out in half an hour.

We came up under the lee of the _Pirate_ and then began the job of getting our passengers aboard her.

Trunnell passed a line over the main-brace bumpkin, and held the tossing craft away from the ship's side until a bridle could be bent and the ladies hoisted aboard.

Mrs. Sackett trembled violently and begged that she would not be killed, much to her daughter's amusement. Finally she was landed on deck, where she was greeted by the third mate and escorted aft. Miss Sackett was of different stuff. She insisted that she could grab the mizzen channel plates and climb aboard. I begged her to desist and be hoisted on deck properly, but she gave me such a look that I held back and refrained from passing the line about her. As the boat lifted on a sea she made a spring for the channel. Her hand caught it all right, but her foot slipped, and as the boat sank into the hollow trough she was left hanging.

Trunnell instantly sprang over the side, and letting himself down upon the channel, seized her hand and lifted her easily to a footing. The ship rolled down until they were knee deep in the sea, but the little mate held tight, and then, with one hand above his head, as she rose again, he lifted his burden easily to the grasp of Jim, who reached over the side for her.

After she was landed safely the men crowded up the best way they could, and the boat was dropped astern with a long painter to keep her clear of the ship's side.

Captain Thompson greeted his female passengers awkwardly. He declared in a drawling tone that he was 'most glad that their boat was wrecked, inasmuch as it had given him the opportunity to meet the finest ladies he had ever set eyes on.

"May the devil grasp me in his holy embrace, madam," said he, "if I am lying when I says that word. It is my most pious thought, says I."

Mrs. Sackett was somewhat taken aback at this candor, but managed to keep her feelings well hidden. Her daughter came to the rescue. "We appreciate your noble efforts, Captain Thompson. The fact is, we have heard so much about your gallantry in saving life at sea that we are sure anything we could say would sound weak in comparison to what you must already have heard. If you have a spare stateroom, we would be very thankful if we might have it for a time, as our clothes are quite wet from the sea."

The skipper was somewhat surprised at the young girl's answer, but he hid his confusion by bawling for the steward.

When the mulatto came, he gave numerous orders in regard to bunks, linen, drying of clothes, etc., regretting over and over again that he was a single man, and consequently had no wife from whom he could borrow wearing apparel while that of his guests was drying.

The third mate, also, took pains to be very civil to them, and his soft voice could be heard in conversation with Miss Sackett long after they had gone below.

I went forward and interviewed the men we had rescued, afterward getting the "doctor" to serve them something hot, as their galley fire had been out many hours and they had been eating nothing but ship's bread.

The _Pirate_ waited all the afternoon with her canvas shortened down to her lower topsails to keep her from forging ahead too fast. But even when it grew dark and the British ship could no longer be clearly made out, her skipper had not gotten out his boats. It was evident that he would try to save her if possible, and now that his family were safe he cared little for the risk. Captain Thompson still held the _Pirate_ hove to under easy canvas, drifting slowly with the wind, which was now no more than a moderate breeze. The sea, also, was going down fast, and the sky was showing well between the long lines of greasy-looking clouds which appeared to sail slowly away to the northeast. The night fell with every prospect of good weather coming on the following day.

I went on deck in the dog-watch and took a look around. The _Sovereign_ was a mere blur on the horizon, but her lights shone clearly.

"We'll stand by her all night," said Trunnell, "and then if the skipper doesn't care to leave her,--which he will, however,--we'll stand away again."

There was little to do, so the watch lounged around the deck and rested from the exertion of the past twenty-four hours. Chips told me I had better come forward after supper and take a smoke in his room, for they were going to come to some conclusion about the fellow Andrews. There had been some talk of putting him aboard the English ship, and if we could get the captain to agree to it, it would be done.

I loafed around until I saw a light between the crack of his door and the bulkhead. Then I slid it back, and entered.

The stuffy little box was full of men. The bos'n, a large man named Spurgen, who had quite a swagger for a merchant sailor, was holding forth to the quartermaster, Hans, on nautical operations.

"An' how'd ye do if ye had an anchor atween, decks widout nothin' to hoist it out wid?" he was saying as I came in.

Hans affirmed, with many oaths, that he'd let the "bloody hancor go bloomin' well to the bottom before he'd fool wid it." This made the bos'n angry, and he opened with a fierce harangue, accompanied by a description of the necessary manoeuvres. He also made some remarks relating to the quartermaster's knowledge of things nautical.

I took occasion to look about the little room while this was going on and my fingers warmed up some. I then seated myself on a corner of the chest near Chips to make myself easy, during which time the bos'n had gained sufficient ground to enforce silence upon his adversary, and relinquish the subject of anchors. Then came a pause during which I could distinguish the "doctor's" voice above the mutterings, and get a whiff of my own tobacco out of the haze.

"--five fat roaches; they'll cure you every time," he was saying to Chips. "It's old man Green's sure remedy, sah, yes, sah. I hearn him tole his ole mate, Mr. Gantline, when he sailed in the West Coast trade."

"Faith, ye may stave me, shipmate, but that would be an all-fired tough dish to swallow," the carpenter declared, with a wry face. "Supposen they didn't die? They would make a most eternal disagreeable cargo shiftin' about amongst your ribs. May the devil grab me, ye moke, if I wouldn't rather swell up an' bust wid th' scurvy than swallow them fellows kickin'."

"Bile 'em, white man," said the cook. "Bile 'em in er pint er water--an' then fling 'em overboard. Who the debble would eat er roach?"

"Right ye are, shipmate," assented Chips; "'tis an aisy enough dose to take if all ye do is to throw th' critters to lor'ard. Sink me, though, if I sees th' benefit av a medicine ye fling to David Jones instead av placin' it to th' credit av yer own innerds."

"Yah, yah, Mr. Chips, but you beats me. Yes, sah, you beats me, but yer haid is thick. Yes, sah, yer haid is thick ernuff, yah, yah," laughed the "doctor." "What would yer do but drink the water, white man? yes, sah, drink the water for the acid in the critter. It's salt in yer blood makes scurvy, from libbin' so long er eatin' nuffin' but salt junk. Lime juice is good, ef the ole man gives it to yer straight, but he nebber does. No, sah, dat he nebber do. It's too expensive. Anyways, it doan' hab no strength like er roach, ner no sech freshness, which am de main pint after all."

Seeing himself out of the talk, and having completely growled down the quartermaster, the bos'n started another subject. This was a tirade against bad skippers and crimps who stood in too thick with the shipping commissioners, and whom he swore were in league with each other and the devil. He was an old sailor, and his seamed face was expressive when launching into a favorite subject. Here was Jim's chance, and he spoke out. "Whatever became of Jameson, what was took off by Andrews?" he asked Chipps.

"Was he doped?" I asked.

"Didn't ye niver hear tell from O'Toole an' Garnett? They was Andrews's mates for a spell, until th' Irishman, God bless him, knocked him overboards an' nearly killed him in a scuffle on th' India Docks."

"Cast loose; I want to hear," said the bos'n.

There was a moment's silence, and Chips looked at me as though questioning the senior officer of his watch. Then he fixed himself comfortably on the chest by jamming himself against the bulkhead, locking his hands about his knees, blowing smoke in a thick cloud.

I heard the hail of Trunnell from the bridge during this pause, asking about a t'gallant leach-line. Thinking it well to take a look out, I did so to see if the men obeyed his orders, and found them rather slow slacking the line. This made it necessary for me to take a hand in matters and instil a little discipline among them, which kept me on deck for some minutes.

IX

When I had a chance to slip back into the forward house, Chips had already "cast loose" and was in full swing.

"There ain't no use of tellin' everything one sees aboard ship," he was saying, "for you know whin things happen on deep water th' world ain't much th' wiser fer hearing about them. There ain't no telegraphs, an' th' only witnesses is the men concerned--or the wimmen. The men may or mayn't say a thing or two after getting the run av th' beach, but as th' critters have to wait half a year afore getting there, the news av th' occurrence wears off an' regard for the effects on th' teller takes place. It's just as often as not th' men keep mum. You know that as well as I do.

"This same Andrews as is forrads in irons was running the _Starbuck_ with Jameson as mate, an' old Garnett as second under him. Ye all know that old pirit. But this time he didn't have any hand in Andrews's game. Andrews wanted to marry the girl Jameson had, an' whin he found he had lost her he played his devil's trick.

"Jameson hadn't been married a week afore Andrews took him around b' th' foot av Powell Street in 'Frisco an' set up some drinks. That's the last any one sees av Jameson fer a year or more on th' West Coast, fer whin he comes to, he was at sea on that old tank, th' _Baldwin_, an' old man Jacobs would as soon have landed him on th'moon as put him ashore."

"A purty bloomin' mean trick," interrupted the bos'n.

"Th' poor divil did have a hard time av it, fer he wasn't a very fierce sort o' chap. He ware a gentil spoken, kind-hearted feller, an' ye know well enough how a man what isn't made of iron wud git along wid Jacobs or his mates. They hazed him terrible; an', as they ware one hundred an' seventy days an' nights to Liverpool, he took the scurvy. Ye can reckon what was left av him afterwards. Whin he left th' hospital, he was glad enough to ship on a Chilean liner to get even as far to the West Coast as Valparaiso.

"He ware aboard this Dago, puttin' in, whin he saw th' _Starbuck_ standin' out o' th' harbor. His wife ware on th' quarter-deck--"

"That's the way with most women," snarled the bos'n, interrupting.

"I don't know about that," continued Chips. "You see, after he had been gone a few months, an' Andrews had been hangin' around all th' time gettin' in his pisonous work, she began to have a little faith in th' villain. It wasn't long afore he convinced her Jameson had deserted, fer he proved fair enough he had shipped aboard th' _Baldwin_, without so much as saying good-by. There ware plenty of men to back him on that, includin' th' boatman what rowed them aboard. Finally, partly by blandanderin' an' a-feelin' around, fer th' poor gal ware now alone in th' world, he got her to step aboard th' bleedin' hooker _Starbuck_ the day he ware ready for sea. Thin he jest stood out--an'--an'--well, after they'd been out six months th' matter ended as far as Jameson ware concerned.

"Jameson took the news hard whin he got th' run av th' beach, but he was that kindly disposed chap an' went along th' best he could until th' war broke out. He ware still waitin' at Valparaiso whin they drafted him into the Dago army, an' he was lucky enough to be on th' side what got licked. Then there ware no use waitin' there fer th' _Starbuck_ to come in again, so he made a slant for Peru as they niver took no pris'ners. Two weeks afterwards Andrews came in again fer nitrates wid Garnett an' O'Toole fer mates--"

"Lucky fer Andrews he wasn't there," said the bos'n; "he'd have had his ornery hide shot full of holes."

"What's th' use av ye talking like a fool?" said Chips. "Is shootin' up a feller a-goin' to undo a wrong like that? Th' shootin' was all done on th' other side, an' Andrews is sound yet an' aboard this here ship. Some men think av other things besides revenge. Especially kind-hearted fellers like Jameson what niver cud hurt no one. As soon as some av Jameson's friends who knew of th' affair told his wife, she wint right into th' cabin where Andrews was, an' afore he knew what she ware up to, she had shot herself. Andrews paid her funeral expenses, an' buried her in th' little Dago cemetery out forninst th' city gate. An' thin Garnett, who didn't know av his skipper's diviltry, sware vengeance on th' husband who deserted her, fer she ware gentil and kind wid th' men forrads."

Here Chips paused and gave me a sidelong look as he refilled his pipe. Then he lit it and smiled hopefully.

"They ware a quare pair, them mates, Garnett an' O'Toole," he said. "What one wasn't th' other was, and _wice wersa_. They lay there two months loadin' on account o' th' war having blocked th' nitrate beds.

"Wan day O'Toole saw an old woman come limpin' along th' dock where th' _Starbuck_ lay. She hobbled on to th' gang-plank an' started aboard, an' O'Toole began to chaff Garnett. He waren't half bad as a joker.

"''Pon me whurd, Garnett,' sez he, 'I do belave your own mother is comin' aboard to visit ye--but no, maybe it's yer swateheart, fer ye have an uncommon quare taste, ye know. B' th' saints, ye ware always a bold one fer th' ladies.'

"We ware lying in th' next berth, not twenty feet away, an' from where I sat on th' rail I cud hear thim talk an' see what was a-goin' on.

"'Stave me,' says old Garnett, solemn like, 'that's true enough. Sink her fer a fool, though, to be a-comin' down here to win back an old windjammer like me--What? ye mean that old hag driftin' along the deck? Blast you for a red-headed shell-back, d'ye s'pose I'd take up wid wimmen av your choice? No, I never makes a superior officer jealous;' an' wid that he takes out his rag an' mops th' dent in th' top av his head where there's no hair nor nothin' but grease, an' he draws out his little pestiverous vial av peppermint salts an' sniffs.

"'Faith, an' ye'll need to clear yer old head, ye owld raskil, ye've been too gay fer onct,' says O'Toole.

"She ware a tough-lookin' old gal, an' her hat brim flopped over her face. O'Toole met her an' pointed to Garnett.

"'If it's th' leddy-killer av th' fleet ye're afther, there he Stan's.'

"Th' old woman looked an' stopped.

"'No,' says she, in a sort o' jangled tone, 'eets my little gal I looks fer--she's aboard here wid th' capt'in,'

"'Ye can't see her,' says Garnett, 'an' ye better get ashore afore I calls one av thim Dago soldiers to carry ye off an' marry ye.'

"I cud jest get th' glint av th' old woman's eyes, then she bent her head lower.

"'E--eets my leetle gal I must see,' an' there was somethin' in her voice that made one pay attention, 'twas so deep an' solemn like. I ware listening an' a few soldiers av th' army what was camped in th' town came up an' stopped an' looked on.

"'She ware a good leetle gal--an' I cared for her--Yes, by God, she ware a good gal,' said th' old one, hoarsely.

"I cud see O'Toole turn away his head an' Garnett sniff hard at his vial. 'Twas good, he used to say, fer things in th' head. Thin he turned to th' old woman.

"'Ye better get ashore, old gal, she ain't aboard here. We don't take thim kind on deep water.'

"'I must see her afore I goes,' says th' old woman, an' her voice ware a whisper that died away, but ware so full av force O'Toole turned to her.

"'Was it Mrs. Jameson ye wished to see?' he asked.

"The old woman nodded.

"'Well--er--faith, an' she--er,' an' thin he stopped to look at Garnett.

"'She had an accident, by yer lave, 'bout a month ago. How was it ye niver hearn tell? Waren't ye here whin th' old man brought her ashore?'

"'I come from 'Frisco,' says she.

"'Well, I s'pose ye might as well know now as niver,' O'Toole blurted out; 'she's dead, owld woman. Been dead a month gone. Th' old man buried her dacent like, fer, as ye say, she ware a rale good gal, 'pon me whurd, fer a fact, she ware that. 'Tis hard to tell ye, but it's th' truth, th' whole truth, an' divil a bit besides.'

"While he talked th' old woman's head went lower, and whin he finished, she gave a hard gasp. Thin she stood huddled forninst th' deck-house, an' Garnett started forward to th' men at work stevin' th' last av th' cargo.

"All av a sudden like I saw her raise her face an' spit a button from her mouth. Her eyes ware starin' an' lookin' at th' hill away off t' th' eastward av th' town an' beyant to th' great southern mountings av th' Andes range. Thin she slowly straightened up an' walked wid a firm step along th' deck an' th' gang-plank.

"Th' soldier men made way for her on th' dock, but she looked straight beyant her nose an' held her way firm an' strong until she went out av sight, lavin' O'Toole starin' after her.

"''Pon me whurd, Garnett,' he called, ''tis a most wonderful thing, look!'

"''Tis a mother's love, ye haythen; 'pon me whurd, there's nothin' else like it. See how th' news affected th' poor old crayther. It puts me in mind av the time whin I had an old leddy t' look after me. 'Tis a rale jewil av a thing, an' a man only has it th' onct.'

"'More's th' pity,' says Garnett. 'Sink ye, but ye sure are a tough one to tell th' old gal on so short notice. But ye niver did have no feelin's, ye bloomin' heathen.'

"''Pon me sowl, what cud I do else?'

"'O' course, 'tain't likely a rough feller like you could do any better, but whin any wimmen folks come aboard agin, come to a man as is used to thim. A man as can talk an' act in a way they likes. A man wid some ways to him. A man--' Here he stooped an' picked up th' button th' old gal had dropped.

"'Where did this come from?' he asked.

"'She had it in her mouth,' says O'Toole.

"'Well, it's one av th' buttons off a uniform that ain't healthy to be wearin' around these parts just now.' An' then they both looked hard at th' little thing.

"'D'ye s'pose it cud have been?' asked O'Toole.

"'Been what?' says Garnett.

"'Jameson, ye blatherin' ijiot. Jameson, th' same as left his wife, a-comin' here huntin' for her. 'Twas so, fer a fact. He had it in his mouth to kape us from knowin' his voice, an' by th' same tokin, I calls to mind th' chokin' in his throat, the scand'lous owld woman he was.'

"'Stave me, but ye might have been right for onct in yer life, so bear a hand an' let's stand away after him an' ketch th' old leddy an' see,' says Garnett.

"They started off without listenin' to my hail, so I climbed down to th' dock an' follows. It was evenin' now, an' th' street was crowded, but they pushed along ahead av me.

"Ye see it ware Jameson, sure enough, an whin he heard his wife ware dead, he wint up that street like a man in a dream. He forgot all about his dress, an' his face ware hard set like a man thinkin' over th' past. He had some five minutes' start av th' mates, an' whin a poor beggar woman spoke to him he scared her half to death with his voice when he asked her th' way to th' cemetery. Thin he remembered his disguise, stepped into a doorway, pulled off th' dress an' hat an' flung thim to th' old beggar woman, an' went his way.

"Garnett an' O'Toole came along a few minutes later an' saw th' beggar.

"'There he is. That's him,' sung out the old sailor, pintin' to th' old gal walkin' along wid her rags tied in a bundle tucked under her arm, fer she had made shift to change thim fer Jameson's slops.

"''Pon me whurd, ye're right fer onct agin,' says O'Toole.

"'Well, don't go a-spoilin' th' thing this time. Let me sail inter him, an' if I wants yer, I'll sing out, an' ye can bear a hand an' help.' Garnett swung across th' street to overhaul th' old woman, an' came up behind her.

"'Evenin', old lady, I wants to have a talk wid ye;' an' he lays his hand on her shoulder wid a grip to take a piece av flesh out. She stopped an' turned quick.

"'_Caramba_!' she yells; 'I teach ye to insult a dacent old lady, you Yankee dog. Help! Murder! ye bloody raskil! Help, help!' Thin she ware upon him like a wild cat, a clawin' an' bitin', screechin' and yellin'.

"'Sink you for a bloody scoundrel, Jameson, I knows ye,' roared Garnett. 'Larry, there, bear a hand. I have him.'

"'Hold him thin, ye brave man,' sings out O'Toole, comin' up. 'Go it, owld gal, give it to him. 'Tis a leddy-killer he is fer sure, 'pon me whurd, fer a fact. Claw him, bite him, even though he's as tough as nails. Yell him deaf, owld leddy. Do it fer his mether's sake, th' scand'lous owld rake he is. Get his year in yer teeth an' hold on, fer 'tis a leddy-killer ye have in yer hands at last. Whang his hide off! Whang him! Whang him!' An' I thought th' old raskil would die av laffin'.

"We ware crowdin' around thim to see th' fun, an' th' way that old gal whanged an' lammed, an' lammed an' whanged, wud have brung tears to yer eyes. 'Twas too much fer human natur' to stan', an' so away goes Garnett down th' street as fast as his bow-legs can git him over th' beach, wid his sheets slacked off a-runnin' free, an' likewise, b' th' same tokin, away squares th' old leddy wid her skysails set an' everythin' drawin' 'cept her skirts, which she holds b' th' clews an' bunts.

"'After him! Catch th' blackguard!' bawls O'Toole, rolling on th' pavement, laffin' an' bawlin'.

"That old beggar was clipper built, fer sure, for wid her skirts clewed up she ware bearin' down fast on th' old mate an' kept his bow-legs a-lurchin' afore th' crowd a-comin' along in th' wake a-yellin' an' hootin' like mad. A man jumped out to stop him, but I knowed Garnett would niver stop this side o' th' gangway av his ship, an' sure 'nuff, out flashes his hand an? th' Dago rolls over an' over. They yelled harder than ever, an' Garnett had to shake out another reef afore he could make th' gang-plank, an' get aboard. He managed to get below jest as some soldiers rushed up. Th' noise brought Andrews on deck in time to get men to keep th' crowd off his ship, an' thin O'Toole comes up.

"'What's th' row?' he bawls to th' mate, but O'Toole ware laffin' so he couldn't spake a whurd. Finally he got it out.

"'Faith, 'tis th' leddy-killer av th' fleet, Garnett, at his owld game,' sez he. ''Pon me whurd, 'tis a hangin' matter this time, fer th' damage he's done th' sex. He ware--' but he bruk down afore he could finish.

"'Twas five minits afore he could tell what had happened, th' old gal cussin' an' swearin' an' th' crowd a-hootin' an' jeerin', but finally th' skipper got some soldiers to carry th' old gal away. Thin out comes Garnett on th' main deck a-smellin' av his little vial, but avoidin' av th' skipper's eye.

"'What th' devil did ye mean?' asked Andrews; 'did ye take her to be Jameson in disguise?'